by Wilde, Lori
Ginger’s words kept echoing through Savannah’s brain like a refrain from a catchy tune. If you love someone unconditionally, you have to accept them as they are.
How true. Too bad it had taken two years, a heap of heartbreak, and a confrontation with outlaws to drive home that fact.
She loved Matt. Had loved him since she was twenty-one years old. But she’d been afraid to trust him to be there for her. When she discovered she carried the breast cancer gene, she’d been so afraid of his rejection that she’d rejected him first.
At least that way, she’d been in control, not a victim of fate. But by cutting him off and not even giving him a chance to stay by her side, she’d forfeited so much happiness, so much joy.
He’d told her he loved her. It was up to her to trust him and take him at his word.
Joy engulfed her as she realized lasting happiness might actually be within her grasp. She pushed down on the accelerator, spurring the little car faster. She had to find Matt, tell him just how much she loved him, too.
* * *
Matt saw Savannah’s car whiz by him in a blur of blue. Immediately, he braked and did an erratic U-turn. She had to be doing at least seventy. Where was she headed in such an all-fired hurry?
She left him in a billow of dust.
Matt rolled down his window, then grinning, reached out to slap the portable siren onto the roof, gunned the Jeep, and took off after her. The siren wailing, he honked the horn and flashed his lights.
At last, she noticed him and pulled over onto the shoulder.
Matt glided to a stop behind her and threw the Jeep into Park. Without even shutting off the engine, he jumped out.
Her car door slammed closed at the same time his did.
She stood there, wearing a white sundress, the late-evening sun slanting through the soft material so he could see the shape of her slender legs right through the thin cotton. Her honey-blond hair framed her face in soft layers. The sight of her erected a wall of desire in his chest so strong and intense, he almost bit his tongue.
This was the woman he loved with all his heart and soul.
* * *
Savannah swallowed hard, staring at the tall, dark, and handsome man in front of her. For once he was hatless, his black hair ruffling in the wind from passing cars. His brown eyes glistened with a determined light. His hard, firm, tanned biceps just begging to be touched and caressed, bulged beneath the sleeves of his red cotton shirt.
Her arms trembled. Her mouth went dry. Her palms instantly were drenched with perspiration.
“Savvy,” he said.
The sound came to her—deep, masculine, provocative. It stirred in her a crescendo of primal emotions. The voice of her lover. The voice lost to her so long ago through sadness and misunderstanding. The voice she’d dreamed of for two long, interminable years.
“Come here,” he croaked and held his arms wide.
Savannah didn’t remember crossing the few yards toward him. She only knew that suddenly she was melting into his embrace like parched ranchland soaking up water.
He planted his mouth on hers in a kiss so powerful, she could scarcely breathe.
Who needed air when she possessed Matt’s lips as her lifeline, she wondered, inhaling the essence of him. Such heaven. Such bliss.
The world around her blurred. The cars flying by, the tinny sound of Matt’s radio wafting through the open Jeep window, and the high grass tickling her shins. None of it penetrated her mind. She experienced only his welcoming kiss.
With thirsty need, he blanketed kisses on her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, returning time and again to drink from her lips. She marveled at his desperate hunger, astonished she created such urgency in him.
His hands rubbed her neck. His fingers stroked her body, starting from her shoulder blades, kneading downward until both hands massaged the small of her back, then lower to cup her derriere.
He tugged his mouth from her jaw, then nestled his face at the intersection of her throat and shoulder. He nibbled lightly, sending waves of delight contracting throughout her body. She laced her fingers together behind his neck, clinging to this man as if her very life depended on him.
Savannah absorbed his neediness, felt his hands tremble with excitement. She thrilled to the flagrant evidence of his growing passion. A passion equaled only by her own starving fervor.
And the ground shifted beneath her as Matt lifted her off her feet and held her aloft, pressing her tight to his chest like an impossible treasure. A surreal sensation washed over her. She’d dreamed of this reunion for so long, it seemed too good to be true.
She kneaded her fingers through his thick thatch of hair. He kissed her long and hard. A serious kiss by a man who was in love. Joy exploded inside her. Was it true? Did he still love her as he once had? Did he love her as much as she loved him?
The sky was bluer than it had ever been, the sight of his dear face so achingly tender that she wanted to cry. His mouth tasted sweeter than any confection ever concocted. His touch was more evocative than any romantic movie ever filmed. His scent was fragrant than a thousand spices.
Then she heard it. Their song on the radio, radiating out into the gathering dusk, surrounding them, engulfing them, welding them as one. The song he’d played for her on his guitar the very first night they met. “The Twelfth of Never.”
Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“Savvy?” he asked with a quiver in his voice. Gently he set her down and looked into her eyes, concern knitting his brow.
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling at him through the blur of tears. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m just so happy.”
He gathered her close again. “You belong to me, Savannah Raylene. You know that, don’t you? Even when you married Gary, we still belonged together. You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”
“You don’t mind that I can no longer have children?”
“We’ve got Cody.”
“My body is—”
“Beautiful.”
“I was on my way to find you. I wanted to tell you the same thing. Matt, I accept you unconditionally. You are a lawman, that’s who you are, and I love you for it.”
Matt looked surprised, then a chuckle rumbled through him.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m not a lawman anymore. I quit my job today.”
“Matt!”
“Yep.”
“You did that for me?”
“Two years ago, I chose my career over you. I was wrong, Savannah. You are the most important thing in the world to me. No job, no career, no vocation should come between us.”
“But you love your job,” she protested.
“I’ll find another job to love.”
“What will you do?” she fretted.
“Who knows? I might go to law school. I’ve also thought about teaching high school. Hell,
I might even put Pat Langley’s nose out of joint and run for sheriff.”
Savannah shook her head. “You can’t quit because of me. Eventually, you’d resent it. You’re not the desk-job type.”
“It’s my choice.”
“I love you for you, and you’re a lawman.”
“Savvy, you and Cody are more important than all the jobs in the world.”
“You’ve got to call Sheriff Langley and get your job back,” she insisted.
He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I feel like a character in an O. Henry story.”
“After that standoff in the barn today with Larkins and Thompson, I finally realized how much your work means to you. You’re a superb detective. It would be a shame for you to quit. And if I love you, I accept you as you are. Just as you accept me, scars, breast cancer gene, and all.”
“Don’t you get it, honey? I no longer want to be at the wrong end of some outlaw’s gun. I want you and Cody. Taking such risks is for bachelors.”
“Matt,” she whispered. “What are y
ou saying?”
“Marry me, Savannah. We can work everything else out. Let’s make a real family for Cody.”
“Oh, Matt.” She sighed.
“Well?” He cocked one eyebrow. “What do you say?”
“I say yes, my darling, oh, yes.”
Gazing into Matt’s eyes, Savannah saw his love shining back at her, as deep and real as her own feelings for him. Her chest tightened. An overflow of happiness inflated her heart. The loneliness and misery of the last two years were instantly swept away.
Fresh tears choked her throat. Rapture bubbled inside her. She’d learned to trust him and with that trust came a serenity she’d never before experienced. From now on, nothing would ever separate them.
“I’ve grown a lot, too,” he said, holding both her hands in his. “I’ve learned false pride is a dangerous thing. I almost lost you because I was too damned stubborn to admit I was hurt.”
“We sure put each other through the wringer, didn’t we?” She smiled.
“Ah, but, Savvy, there’s only one good thing about breaking up.”
“And that is?”
“The kissing and making up.”
“Since our fight lasted two years, I can’t wait to see what the reconciliation is going to be like.”
He bent his head and feathered another kiss along her lips. “I love you, Savannah Raylene Prentiss Markum.”
“I love you, too, Matthew Cody Forrester. Now let’s go home,” she replied, her voice coming out husky. “I can’t wait to get to the making up part.”
“Me, either, babe. Me, either.”
Chapter—Epilogue
“Congratulations, Sheriff Forrester.” Todd Baxter grinned at his brother-in-law. “How does it feel to be the youngest man ever elected sheriff in this county?”
“I can’t tell a lie,” Matt said. “It feels fantastic. My only regret is that a heart attack forced Pat Langley to retire. Of course, if it weren’t for Savannah here, I would still be on the front lines getting shot at.”
Matt reached across the dinner table and patted his wife’s hand. She smiled back, and that familiar arrow of joy shot clean through him. Marrying Savvy had been the best move he’d ever made. It was two days after the election, and they were sitting at the kitchen table having a small family celebration.
“But don’t you miss the excitement, the sense of adventure that comes with being in the field?” Todd asked. “Even just a little bit?”
“Daddy,” Cody insisted loudly. “Piggyback ride.” The boy grabbed Matt’s fingers and tugged.
“Are you kidding?” Matt responded to Todd. “Tracking hard-core felons would be a sedate change of pace from raising a three-and-a-half-year-old.” Matt cast a sideways glance at Ginger’s extended tummy. “But then, you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Now,” Cody insisted.
“Come here, son.” Matt hefted the boy into his lap. “Of course, three-week-olds aren’t much tamer.” Matt smiled at his brand-new baby daughter, Marissa Angelique, who they’d just adopted, as she lay sleeping in the bassinet parked next to the table. “Are they, Savvy?”
“And you were the one who always thrived on danger,” Savannah said. “I think that’s a far-fetched story. One dirty diaper and you’re done for.”
Matt never could have imagined it, but the thrills and trials of being a father were unequaled. And his love for Savannah had never burned as brightly as it had the day they’d said: “I do.” At that moment, he’d known his life was totally complete.
* * *
Savannah smiled at her husband. Over the past year, their love had grown, expanding into a bright, shining thing so wonderful she scarcely believed her own happiness. But this time, she wasn’t afraid of losing him.
Her life had swelled to overflowing. She was proud of Matt and his new career. He’d spent the last two years helping her get the ranch operating in the black, and now he’d won the sheriff’s seat by a landslide.
And looking after Cody and Marissa left no room in her mind for worry. For the first time since her mother’s death, Savannah felt unencumbered by fear. Matt’s love had given her the key to freedom. He would be there to share her concerns, in good times and in bad.
The back door swung open, and Clem stepped in. “Miss Savannah,” he said. “Looks like we got trouble.”
“What is it, Clem?” Matt asked, setting Cody on the floor and pushing back from the table. Alarmed, Savannah stood up beside him.
“Two of them Gerts are trying to deliver at the same time. I’m gonna need some help out here. We had no idea what we were getting into when we got them all back.”
Savannah breathed in a sigh of relief. Living on a ranch was never dull, and neither was life with Matt.
“Well, Savvy, are you sorry you married me?” Matt asked, a wry grin on his face. He retrieved his Stetson from the hat rack and settled it onto his head.
“Never,” she whispered.
“You love me?” he asked, stepping over to give her a quick kiss.
“With all my soul.”
“For how long?” he asked, one eyebrow cocked as they exchanged their daily repartee.
“Until the twelfth of never,” she replied, her heart singing with joy. “I’ll still be loving you.”
* * *
Dear Reader, I hope you have enjoyed reading, Matt.
If you have the time, I would so appreciate a review. Just a couple of words will do. A review is different from leaving a rating for Amazon. Authors don’t see those ratings and we don’t get your feedback, but we do see your reviews. Thank you so much for leaving a review. You are appreciated!
If you would like to read more Texas Rascals, the third book in the series is Nick. Available here:
https://loriwilde.com/books/nick/
For an excerpt of Nick, please turn the page.
Thank you for reading.—Much love, Lori Wilde
Visit Lori on the Web @ Lori Wilde
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Chapter—Excerpt from Nick
“I am not working with him. It’s out of the question.” Michele Mallory, Texas State Trooper, crossed her arms and glared at the arrogant, lean-muscled male slouching on one corner of her superior officer’s desk.
Why did this man have to be devastatingly handsome with that thatch of coal black hair and those mesmerizing brown eyes? Good-looking he might be, but Michele thought “Nick” Nickerson was also the most infuriating individual she’d ever met.
“Me?” Feigning innocence, Nickerson arched his eyebrows. “What’d I ever do to you?”
“Now Michele,” Lieutenant Ray Charboneau began, but she cut him off before he went any further.
“Don’t patronize me, Ray. I’m dead serious. The last time I worked with this joker…” She jerked a thumb at Nickerson. “He almost got me killed.”
Nick shook his head as if Michele were a wayward child conjuring up an unbelievable story. “Exaggerating a bit, aren’t you, Mish?”
If looks were darts, Nickerson would have been a sieve. “It’s Officer Mallory. And I don’t consider taking a bullet an exaggeration.”
Nick clicked his tongue. “Who disobeyed my command and went running off after the perp alone?”
“Disobeyed you? You weren’t my commanding officer. We were partners.”
“I was the senior trooper on the scene.”
“Kiss my backside, Nickerson.”
“Be glad to. You name the time and place. I’ll be there, puckered up and ready to go.” Nickerson smirked, and Michele’s fingers itched to slap his smug face.
“Over my dead body,” she growled.
“You display a great deal of animosity for such an attractive girl.”
“I am not a girl. I’m twenty-seven years old and more woman than you could ever manage.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The sassy gleam in Nickerson’s eyes was purely sexual. “You sure are.”
Michele gulped, rememb
ering that fateful night last December. The night she’d lain bleeding in the truck-stop parking lot along Interstate 35. The night Nickerson had kissed her. A night she regretted but somehow couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Excuse me, but could you two put your personal differences aside while we review this case?” Lieutenant Charboneau spread his palms, indicating the manila folder on his desk.
“But that’s my point, Chief.” Michele paced the small office, her hands moving to punctuate her words. “I can’t work with him. He’s undisciplined, arrogant, a real loose cannon. I prize my reputation too much to be harnessed with an irregular partner. I even lodged an official complaint against him after the Harbarger incident, but no one took me seriously and I resent that.”
“Internal Affairs exonerated Nick.” Ray Charboneau ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Michele, I realize Nickerson uses an unorthodox approach to criminal investigation, but you can’t deny he’s one of the finest undercover officers with the state police. No one can argue his arrest and conviction record.”
Michele gritted her teeth. She smelled defeat. The last thing she wanted in the whole wide world was to be paired with Nick Nickerson again.
‘‘So why send me on the case? If he’s so great, why not let Mr. Wonderful go alone?”
‘‘Have a seat, Michele,” Lieutenant Charboneau said.
Agitated, Michele perched on the edge of a stiff-backed chair in front of the chief’s desk. Chin in the air, she avoided eye contact with Nickerson.
The three weeks they’d spent together on the Harbarger investigation last December were forever etched in her brain. Three weeks tracking the truckers moving stolen merchandise from El Paso to Amarillo. Three weeks drinking rot-gut coffee from paper cups and eating fast-food hamburgers from greasy sacks. Three weeks cooped up in a patrol car with Nickerson.